


Nature vs. Nurture

by Bidiza



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gaara loves plants and his siblings and lee and thats it, Kinda, Lee is oblivious and in love, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Burn, gaara is so broken but trying so hard to put himself back together, he is a simple man, like I really don't care about canon I just want to see my boys in love, no beta we die like men, so much plant talk, sorry in advance for all of the mistakes, uh yeah I'm having no one read this over so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bidiza/pseuds/Bidiza
Summary: “you took a monster and taught it how to be human. what you failed to realize is how little of a difference there exists between the two. there is no alchemy to make flesh from a blade; only the whetstone, to sharpen it for the inevitable cut.”— nature vs. nurture, round two | m.a.wOne-shots exploring Gaara and Lees rather intense relationship. All of them heavily inspired by poetry I love.
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee, Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 25
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _“Compassion basically means accepting people’s frailties, their weaknesses, not expecting them to behave like gods. That expectation is cruelty.”_  
>  — Osho
> 
> Hi all! Okay so I...have not written Naruto fanfiction since I was fifteen. I'm now 21.
> 
> so this is a bit odd for me. I guess. I've been coming into a bit of a Naruto renaissance as of late. It's just been morphing back into my brain space. Specifically these two idiots have really taken over, so I decided to write out my frustration. 
> 
> I _literally_ have a folder dedicated to poetry and writings that remind me of these two. I'm in way too deep lmao.

Gaara felt so much that sometimes it made him want to rip himself to pieces, and sometimes he felt so little it didn’t feel like he had enough left of himself to tear apart.

When feeling like this, Gaara decided to tend to his plants. 

Emotions are a fickle thing. Dangerous. Incredibly volatile when felt in such a raw state by such an unstable mind. More times than he wished to admit Gaara had to mentally rebuild himself from the ground up, over and over again. He would start from the beginning, from his most basic stable state, and construct until he was back to himself. Composed and ready to serve his people. 

It was exhausting, but something he learned that kept him anchored. 

In times when that did not entirely fix the problem, horticulture seemed to do the trick. Plants, unlike people and animals, did not fear him. 

Well, from what he could tell anyway. Though animals seemed to wither under Gaara's gaze alone, and people even more so, plants were the opposite. They stretch towards him like they did to the sun, seeking something silent from him. 

His greenhouse was enormous. Adjacent to the Kazekage manner and connected by a glass tunnel that overflowed with desert climbing plants. He tended to it daily, and tended to it alone. 

It was a sanctuary for him and his sanity. Where he could go and be surrounded by living things that didn't demand that he finish his paperwork, or speak about fussy politics. Though older now, in his early twenties and more assiduous when it came to the affairs of the world and his village, he would still rather gouge an eye out at this point than talk to the older council one more time about party politics. 

So he selfishly ignored his duties for a bit, and played in plant soil instead. He unfurled roots to new plants that he needed to put into new homes, and did  _ not  _ try to think about the reason he was aggressively shoving his hands a  _ little _ too hard into the new dirt he was mixing.

Infusing sand into soil to make a cactus mixture that would drain sufficiently was a lot easier to handle than his own feeling at the current moment. 

Temari would scold him for his coping tactics, but progress didn't happen overnight. 

His spiral started with the color green. A rare color to see in the middle of the desert, but something that if cultivated and given enough care, grew regardless of the harsh conditions. But this specific green was not the natural color of flora that Gaara was so fond of. 

No, it was an obnoxious hue, so bright when caught in sunlight it almost looked neon. It also seemed to always be accompanied by an equally bright orange, and it made Gaara's heart constrict so hard that he had a difficult time staying composed. 

Those colors were always wrapped around a form that was mostly human, if looked at right. Two muscular arms and two muscular legs, battle worn and battle made. The fabrics those colors consisted of were as tight as skin, and to Gaara that wasn’t even the worst part. 

What had brought him presently to what he now considered a frenzied battle between him and his beloved succulents rather than a peaceful afternoon gardening, was not the breathable cotton of a battle jumpsuit. Rather, it was the man who wore it like a second skin.

Gaara didn't know when these feelings started, or if they had an end in sight. Intense didn't even begin to cover how he felt. It was like a hand was wrapped around his insides and squeezing, suffocating him from his core and moving outward. He had tired in a desperate attempt to understand why he felt this way by questioning Kankuro about it. Not surprisingly, it had just ended up with Gaara being even more confused than before. 

At first Kankuro had been worried he had become sick with something. When Gaara reassured him that no, he wasn't unwell, and yes, he’s eating enough and sleeping the best he could. Kankuro's face seemed to pucker. 

He didn't look up from his workbench when he asked, “Well can you describe it better? I can’t tell you what's up unless you use your words, squirt.” 

“I feel like I’m dying, but on the inside.” 

Kankuro had looked like he wanted to swallow glass. “That is, well, so not helpful Gaara.” 

They discussed it for a bit longer, after Gaara described the way he felt in what he thought were marginally better terms. Considering his run-ins with emotions to be few and far more confusing than rewarding to him, he thought he was doing okay explaining how he felt. 

Once he had mentioned Lee, and said these feelings seemed to happen almost exclusively when the leaf Jounin was around or when he thought about him in length, Kankuro’s face seemed to scrunch in confusion. Gaara thought mildly that he looked like one of those pinched desert lizards that ran funny. 

“Honestly kid, you should probably just go talk to Mari. I’m really not good with this kind of stuff.” 

Gaara frowned, “What stuff? And I would have gone to Temari first, but she is in wave country on a mission.” 

A wrench was thrown in Gaara's general direction, and his sand caught it without either brother shifting their gaze or moving. 

“Good, then. At least you know which sibling to go to in your times of emotional peril.” 

“Well, yes. Temari is smarter than you.” 

Another wrench was chucked, this time closer to Gaara's head. Kankuro had finally looked up from his puppet, eyes landing on his younger brother. 

“I swear if you weren't so cute when being ignorant about literal basic human emotions I’d strangle you. Go play in your dirt or something. I know you usually work shit out once you've potted some cacti and had your ‘me’ time.” 

And so here Gaara was. Hours had passed and he had thought and thought and rearranged plants and thought some more. The words, ‘basic human emotions,’ and ‘emotional peril,’ swam around in his skull, thick and uncomfortable. 

He could always just  _ ask _ Lee what this all meant. They were friends, close friends, if Gaara had any sort of gage on what the difference was. In his mind he felt the dividing factor was because when given a choice of who he’d like to spend his time with, Lee was at the very top of the metaphorical list. 

Anytime Lee was in the village, for ninja work or otherwise the two of them gravitated towards the other like magnets. This had been going on for years, and at first Lee had been a bit bashful. Coming into Gaara's office and asking lightly if he’d possibly like to go train, or maybe go have a meal together. 

But now it was just a given that if Lee was anywhere near the village he would come and find Gaara, and they’d fall back into a comfortable amity. Lee chattering away while Gaara gave soft, short responses to whatever Lee wanted to tell him. They would eat and train and peoplewatch and it felt so domestic in a way that Gaara felt distraught, disturbed by the simplicity. People usually didn't get along with him, didn't  _ want _ to get along with him. 

Lee was the exception.

He continued to garden. If he could not work through whatever he was feeling with plants then he’d just confront Lee about it. He was in the village after all, which was the main reason Gaara was having such a difficult time just focusing on simple paperwork. Lee physically being around him made these feelings ten times more intense, and the more aggressive Gaara felt things, the more he wanted to just feel numb. 

Gaara was torn between wanting to feel so openly, but coming to the realization that the strong emotions people usually experienced moved in tandem with a never ending ache in the gut. An excruciating gnawing in the body that signaled he was human, which was good. He was always grateful for the reminder of his humanity, but it also hurt  _ a lot _ and he did _ not _ enjoy the hurt, not one bit. 

He’d freaked the first time he’d felt this certain emotion around Lee, excusing himself from their meal after it started to become so much he couldn't handle himself. The greenhouse had been thoroughly cleaned that day. Gaara was so focused on trying to not feel his insides burn that he vigorously scrubbed at anything with a physical form. 

Lee had questioned him the next day, worry clearly evident in his doe eyes. Gaara had stared a little too long, memorizing the length between each eye, captivated by the way Lee’s nose turned up a bit at the end. 

A clipped, “I’m fine," was all Gaara could manage.

Now Lee was back in the village, and the discomfort was back at full force and Gaara wanted to physically rip his stomach out of his corporeal form. He was slowly figuring out that vigorously potting plants wasn't going to solve his aches, but confronting Lee about this made his stomach twist even more. Which he didn't understand either. 

A lack of knowledge on any subject frustrated him to no end. This one especially. Gaara felt so lost in the ignorance of it all. At least he knew the ratio of sand to wet soil to make a good mix for his succulents. 

There was a rasp of a knuckle on glass to Gaara's right, and his eyes shot up to meet large brown ones. 

Oh. 

Speak of the Green Beast. 

Once Lee noticed Gaara had seen him, he waved enthusiastically. His whole being was radiating a sense of joy. Gaara could not say he felt the same. 

There was a door right next to where Lee was standing, a large metal thing made of mostly glass like the rest of the greenhouse. It was the only door that led directly into the building, and Gaara always had it locked and plants scattered all around it. No one used it anyway, so to him it was just another part of the wall that let light in. 

His gourd was leaning against the leg of his work table, and he silently popped the cork and sent the sand slithering over to the door. Simultaneously moving all of the plants out of the way and unlocking the entrance, pushing it open a bit so Lee understood his intentions. 

Lee slipped into the building with ease, clearly watching where he stepped to make sure he didn't crush any of Gaara's plants. Light was bouncing off of him in ways that Gaara noted made him look like he was part of the foliage, all green and shiny. 

It was around six, golden hour exquisitely bursting into all the edges of the glass building. Lee made his way over to Gaara, his smile so blazing it almost hurt to look directly at it. 

“Gaara! I thought you would be here! I passed Kankuro while heading back to my quarters and asked if he knew where you were. This is such a beautiful place! I didn't even know this existed! Did you cultivate all of this yourself?” 

Gaara would bet actual Suna currency on the fact that Lee probably didn’t just ‘ask’ where he was, but probably endlessly bearded his brother for information of his whereabouts. He would also guess Kankuro gave a stern warning about how Gaara probably wanted to be left to his own devices, and to tread cautiously. 

It was strange however, how Lee made him feel like he didn't want to be alone anymore. Though still in a bit of a mood, he didn’t feel like telling him to leave. 

“Yes. This is my own personal greenhouse. I come here when things get...stressful. A place where I can be alone and think.”

Lee's smile faltered a bit. He was now standing a few inches away from him at the workbench, looking across at everything that was splayed out. Gaara felt the ache in his chest start to worsen, a pain that felt terribly good to feel when this close to Lee. 

“Oh! Oh I can leave if that would make you more comfortable? I’m so sorry for intruding on your space I-” 

Gaara raised a hand to stop him, his voice soft, “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind if you are here.” 

A silence fell over the two. The only sounds that echoed were the light noises of Gaara shifting pots and plants, a low hum escaping as he worked efficiently. 

Gaara felt a twinge of guilt. He was being a bit moody, “Would you like to help?” 

That made Lee perk up. His eyes shining, “Oh yes! I’d love to! I will say I’m not really that well versed on plant care, but I can always give it a try! Every challenge is a new opportunity to grow and learn!” 

A small pot was placed in front of Lee, Gaara's sand setting it down on the table with a light thump. There was a large pile of dirt in between them, and Gaara made eye contact with Lee as he cupped both his hands in front of himself. He then proceeded to dip them into the dirt, scooping a small amount into his palms. 

Lee followed suit, picking up quickly on what he was supposed to be doing. Gaara settled the dirt into the pot, as graceful as ever, and Lee did the same.

The ebb and flow of the two men working in tandem, Gaara doing a task and Lee following suit, was calming to Gaara in ways he didn't have the words to express. The sunset was gleaming from outside the glass walls, and the day cooled a bit as the world turned to dusk. 

Gaara instructed Lee to make a small well into the dirt that was now transferred and ready for the succulents. When Lee made a distressing noise, clearly having a bit of trouble, Gaara stepped closer to help. They were now side to side, Gaara's shoulder digging lightly into Lee's upper arm, as the older man was a few inches taller than him. 

Contact for Gaara was complicated. Like most things, he was torn between the want of being normal and the trauma his childhood created for him, wrapping him in a cocoon of distrust and a need to distance from anything remotely human. 

He pushed himself though, small things like this helped him move past what he knew before and come into something he could handle now. He was older and wiser and less beastly. He also found he  _ liked _ being this close to Lee. It might have made the knot in his stomach twist even more, but it also made him feel light, like he was made of air instead of muscle and blood. 

He grabbed Lee's hand, a little forcefully, and showed him how to make the proper dent in the soil for optimal succulent planting. His hand was dwarfed in comparison to Lee’s, and so much paler. Clear milk met bandaged, scarred tan, and Gaara noted to himself he liked the contrast. 

He heard Lee sputter a bit, but paid it no mind. Lee was always making some sort of funny, weird noise, no matter the occasion. He was used to it at this point. 

They returned to planting. By the time the sun was kissing the horizon of the earth they had completed their task. The last rays of light showering the sand dunes in a glow with bright reds and yellows. 

Gaara moved around his space effortlessly. Putting all of the new succulents, now freshly potted, into spots they would receive the right amount of sun for best growth. Lee watched him silently as he did so, the quiet settling comfortably once again over the two of them.

This was another ebb and flow that Gaara noticed was happening more and more. The silences that followed the sounds, like an animal chasing its prey. A back and forth that constantly happened but never felt forced, just natural. It didn't matter if they were sitting and watching the people of Suna move about their daily lives, or if it was Lee chatting on about someone or something that made him happy. They were caught in this endless back and forth. 

As Gaara placed another succulent down in its new spot, he thought about explaining to Lee how he was feeling. It made him incredibly tense, skittish in a way that's completely foreign to him. He never had this much trouble trying to talk to someone about a problem that needed to be solved. Granted, he was usually dealing in politics, not his own emotions, but still. 

“Lee, I-” Gaara stopped himself, shocked at how quick Lee was to perk up and meet his eyes. He looked like a live wire. 

Gaara was hesitant because if he was to start this conversation, he felt there would be irreversible consequences. No matter if they were good or bad, it made him feel like he would be like an animal caught in a trap he set himself. 

“Yes, Gaara?”

They stood, feet apart and staring at one another. Always with the starring, like they've never seen what the other one looked like before. Like they haven't done this same dance countless times already. 

Gaara sighed, “Would you...like to go get some dinner? I’m done here.” 

A complicated mix of emotions flexed over Lee's face, many Gaara could not read. For a breathless moment Gaara thought he would say no, or tell him he was too busy. 

“Sure! I’d love to go eat with you. Where would you like to go?” 

The same dance happened. Gaara answered, Lee nodded exuberantly, and then they were off. Leaving behind the greenhouse in favor of a nice meal. Lee had started to talk about his day, boisterous as ever, and Gaara hummed and listened. 

Gaara would find the will to talk to Lee about this ache. One day soon the courage would be built. It would have to happen, his psyche only so capable of dealing with so many things. This would drive him mad if he did not get answers. 

But for now he could sit with Lee and eat. Talk about his day and the political affairs that vexed him and feel the warmth of having company and someone to talk to. 


	2. Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha I love having multiple chapters of this half written, and now that school is back in session I'll be procrastinating my assignments with this fanfic bc I'm fully back in GaaLee mode. 
> 
> Also this is so unbeta'd and I'm so sorry for any grammatical or other errors, I'm really just writing this to entertain myself and keep me writing. 
> 
> Anyways heres 2k words of the sand siblings being a little soft and also being absolutely feral together.

* * *

_ “I am so busy. I am practicing my new hobby of watching me become someone else. There is so much violence in reconstruction. Every minute is grisly, but I have to participate. I am building what I cannot break."  _ _ — Jennifer Willoughby, The Sun is Still a Part of Me _

* * *

Gaara was certain that if he didn't have his siblings, he would go absolutely mad. 

Family was a difficult concept for him. A rather large metaphorical pit that dug into the bottom of his stomach. The idea of having people related to you by blood, who cherished and cared for you had not been a reality for Gaara for most of his childhood. Or for his siblings, really. Not until recently anyway. 

In the past few years the three of them have worked their best to try and sew together something that resembled a healthy sibling relationship. It had not been easy, seeing as politics and world affairs trickled into their everyday lives like sand did into the cracks of Suna. Gaara was their superior, but he was also the youngest, so the power dynamics were a bit crooked. 

There were also the more obvious, rather  _ obtuse _ obstacles of which were the fact that Gaara had tried to kill both of them on multiple occasions for the first thirteen years of his life. Working through something like that did not happen overnight. They were still trying to fully trust one another. 

It was getting easier though, for Gaara at least. He felt lighter, and more sure of himself when interacting with the two of them. It seemed more natural to gravitate towards his siblings as he got older in years, to seek help from them if he needed it. 

They were a bit shattered, but it worked. It had too, they were all that was left of their fragmented family. They were all each other had. 

That was starting to change though, too. Gaara could feel a shift in the equilibrium slowly happening. Moving to something bigger, something brighter for them. His intuition had first perked when Kankuro entered his office one morning, inquiring about Temari and her position as Suna’s ambassador to the Leaf. His face scrunched a beat red like he’d just run a mile.

Leave it to Kankuro to always be one for subtleties. 

“I just think something weird is going on! Like, I don’t exactly know what, but somethings up with her!” 

A nonexistent eyebrow was raised, “Are you accusing our sister of treason, Kankuro?” 

“Fuck? Wha--no! Thats, dude, no. Why the fuck would you think that  _ I  _ would think that our sister is betraying our village? Gaara that's fucked up.” 

Gaara just shrugged. A ghost of a smile pinching onto his face. Pushing Kankuro's buttons was a small game that Gaara liked to participate in when he was feeling particularly bored by his piles of paperwork. 

“I think she’s sleeping with that Leaf ninja. The one that looks like a pineapple.”

Ah, well. That explained why Kankuro was so flustered about all of this. He always did have a problem staying out of people's personal affairs. 

“Okay.”

“Okay? All you have to say to this theoretical political nightmare of a relationship that might be forming between two ninja of different villages is ‘okay’? Bro, brother dearest, esteemed Kazekage, I expected more from you.”

Sometimes, in the darkest parts of his own psyche, Gaara really thought about reverting back to his old self and strangling him with sand when he got like this. It was a tantalizing thought.

“That could also be said for the way I feel about Lee, couldn't it?” 

Kankuro looked like he was drowning on air. “It’s not the same!” 

Gaara sighed, “Kankuro, if you don’t have actual pressing issues concerning the village that you need to tell me about, then leave. I have work to do.” 

Kankuro put his hand over his heart and gasped loudly, “I’m hurt, Gaara! You make it sound like our sister isn’t something important that we should talk about.” 

Another non-existent eyebrow joined the other. “You know that's not what I’m saying. I care about our sister a great deal. I will, however, not sit here and speculate about her personal life with you.” 

Gaara had to admit though, if there was a chance Temari was forming some sort of intimate relationship with a ninja from the Leaf village, things would become rather, well, complicated. He had no qualms about it personally. The Leaf was a trusted ally. A village that Gaara had spent many hours cultivating a strong, healthy political relationship with. But a marriage between two Ninja of different villages was always a headache. 

He was sure however, that he could figure something out with Naruto if it came down to it. As the two of them seemed to be on the same page most of the time, both politically and otherwise. The two villages had never been more intertwined. 

If Temari was mingling with someone from the Leaf, Gaara would not stop her. It would be incredibly hypocritical of him, but also he wanted his sister to be happy. He knew the older council members would throw a hissy fit, but he could handle that. He was sure they would be in an uproar about the political downfall that could ensue, but Gaara had faith in his sister and her choices. 

“Whatever. I’m just saying if that is what's goin’ on I will not hesitate to bust that dudes ass. I never did like pineapples. Too sweet for my liking.” 

“Kankuro, our sister is more than capable of handling herself. Whatever is going, on I’d suggest staying out of it.” 

Gaara used his sand to open the main door to his office, words clearly not enough to get Kankuro out so he could get back to work, “now, leave.” 

* * *

A week passed and Temari returned from her mission successful and unscathed. It eased a deep part of Gaara to know the house was more lively again, back to its usual capacity. He felt a bone deep calm with the knowledge that both of his siblings were back under the same roof, secure. 

Kankuro had tried once more to talk to him about what he now considered, ‘ _ the biggest scandal this family has ever experienced,’ _ which, to Gaara, was absolutely preposterous seeing as he had  _ literally _ killed their uncle at the age of five. But, okay, sure. They both knew Kankuro was just being overdramatic and fussy. 

The three of them sat in their expansive kitchen later that night to eat a late meal together, putting in an effort to catch up. 

Talking and getting reacquainted after Temari had been gone for so long was now a sort of family tradition. Kankuro spoke boisterously about his new puppet he was working on, while Temari discussed her trip and complained about the moist heat that permeated Konoha. It was the height of the summer months, but at least in Suna the desert cooled at night, giving some reprieve. 

It wasn’t long before Kankuro started to bug Temari about individual people in the Leaf Village, clearly trying to pry about her personal life. Gaara knew his motives, but decided to stay mute. 

“Well, I mean you don't seem to hate going to the leaf and hanging out with everyone there. What. you like em’ better than us or something?” 

Temari huffed, “No, of course not. Why are you so focused on this? I can tell you're sniffing for something.” 

Kankuro turned to give a pleading look to Gaara, his voice high. “Come on squirt, help me out here.” 

Gaara glowered, “I will not be associated with any of this.”

“Bro! Come on!”

Somehow Temari was glaring at both of them without shifting her gaze by even a fraction. A skill she had picked up being the oldest of two brothers that were more beast than man. She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, balancing on the two back legs and looking like the royalty she technically was.

“Just ask me what you want to know about. You know I have no patience for these games.” 

Gaara spoke, cutting right to the point, “Kankuro thinks you're sleeping with that strategist from the leaf.” 

His name was lost on Gaara. But from the way Temari’s cheeks pinked considerably, he assumed Kankuro's theory wasn't simply a hunch made by a nosey brother, but rather a quite accurate and truthful educated guess. 

“Shit, I fucking knew it!” 

A loud echo of a chair scraping the kitchen tile bounced throughout the room, as did the undignified shrikes of Kankuro as he desperately tried to avoid being manhandled by Temari. 

Gaara took another bite of his food, mildly amused. 

Temari had Kankuro by the collar of his shirt and was violently shaking him back and forth, a mix of embarrassment and anger twisting her sharp features. 

“I’m going to turn you into a carpet you stupid!” Shake. “Good for nothing!” Shake. “Weasel!” 

“Gaara, please! Fucking Help!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop prying into my personal life! It’s none of your damn business you gremlin!” 

Kankuro put on his best puppy eyes, trying to look as non threatening as possible, “Oh come on Tem, even Gaara talks to me about his love life! I’m ju--” 

Temari released kankuro immediately, her motions not unlike a damn suddenly breaking. A stinging silence quickly took over the room as a thick blanket of tension weighted itself over the three siblings as they all processed what Kankuro had just admitted. Temari slowly set herself back into her respective seat. The look of fury on her face shifting into something much more somber. 

“Love life?” Temari whispered those small words to no one in particular. It sounded like if she spoke them at full volume they would reverberate off the walls and cause the house to crumble into pieces. 

She shifted to face Gaara full on, her voice incredibly soft, “Gaara?” 

The air felt like liquid. Though Gaara had originally planned to go to Temari when he first figured out his affections for Lee, she had been off on an incredibly complex mission. So he had ended up talking to Kankuro. 

Months had passed, Lee had gone back to Konoha, and Gaara saw how tired Temari was every time she returned from a mission. Since the Chunin exams were coming up, she had been increasingly busy. It just didn’t feel right to bother her with such trivial things like this.

A deeper, darker part of him also feared the potential rejection. Kankuro had been more than supportive, but Gaara still worried that Temari would disapprove.

Politically, the idea of Gaara courting Lee was a nightmare. He knew the Suna council was trying to find a suitable wife for him, to produce offspring that could then take his place one day.  Temari was heavily integrated into the current political climates of both Suna and Konoha, and she very well could react unfavorably to the idea of him wanting to be romantically involved with a foreign ninja. Who also happened to be none other than Rock Lee. 

He was also incredibly fragile when it came to matters of the heart. Anyone outside of his immediate circle would scoff at the idea of any part of him being labeled as breakable, but feelings like this made him see-through, just like glass.

If he admitted his feelings to Temari, it meant they were _real_. It also meant that he was one step closer to having to admit his affections to not only the council, but to the rest of Suna. He knew it was political suicide, as he was already on rocky ground with those old fogies. This, however, would just solidify to them that he was a diplomatic wildfire. One that needed to be smothered. 

“Gaara, Shit, I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to--” 

Kankuro looked like he was about to throw up. Gaara felt like he wanted to. “No, It’s alright, I…” 

He didn't know where to begin. The fear of someone he cherished disapproving of something like this coated his throat like a thick smoke and made it hard to speak. 

A few tense minutes passed, and then he suddenly felt a calloused hand fall over his own. He looked up to see Temari with wide, open eyes, watching him with a mixture of confusion and care. Looking exactly like a patient older sister should. 

He gripped her hand, hard. Like it was the only thing anchoring him to this physical world. 

“Rock Lee. It’s him.”

That was all he needed to say for Temari to put the pieces together. She was incredibly perceptive, and she returned his grip with the same force as he spoke Lee’s name into the air. 

“What do you plan to do about it?” 

Gaara couldn't help let a small smirk form. It was exactly the type of response he should've expected from Temari. Putting the ball into his court to explain himself further, and also relinquishing the freedom of his choice to solely him. 

“I’m planning to explore these feelings. I...feel a great deal when I’m around him. It’s quite overwhelming at times honestly.” 

A myriad of emotions washed over Temari's face, but nothing that could even remotely resemble disapproval. 

Temari squeezed his hand once more, and then let go. “We’ll deal with it. I won’t let you do this alone.” 

Another silence fell over the three of them, but this time it was a more relaxing stillness. One that was accompanied only by the soft noises of porcelain dishes as they were being collected off the table by Temari.

As she walked away into the kitchen to deposit the dishes, Kankuro and Gaara locked eyes. Gaara could see something warm bloom onto Kankuro's usually smug exterior, and he tried not to read too much into it. Feelings still hurt sometimes when he felt them too much too often. 

When Temari returned, she made a show of herself, cocking her hip against the dining table as she fully faced Kankuro. Her mouth turned up into a self-sastified little smile, “Also, for the record, I  _ am  _ sleeping with Shikamaru, but thats still none of your business you bastard.” 

It only took a few seconds before Kankuro was bellowing. “Son of a bitch! I fucking knew it!” 


	3. vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow it has been a hot minute since I updated this. I have a few chapters I have half written, and I've been slowing trying to get through them! 
> 
> I'm currently working on my thesis for undergrad so I'm a bit stressed, but fixing these half made chapters up has been a nice reprieve from working on homework 24/7 lmao. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Again I don't have a BETA so I apologize in advance for any grammer/spelling mistakes.

* * *

_“The only natural responses to vulnerability are love and violence.”_

* * *

It was dusk, and Lee sat an arms length distance from Gaara, a bit bloody and glowing in the late evening sunset.

The two of them had been sparing for a few hours. Lee was in Suna for an extended period. On some reconnaissance mission that required him to stay in Suna for a while, gathering intel. Gaara had no qualms about it, as it meant time spent with Lee. however little it actually was.

Every time Lee visited, it seemed the two gravitated towards the other unconsciously. It had gotten to the point that whenever Gaara had a free moment, Lee was there to fill the space. And Gaara was getting increasingly dependent on it.

Kankuro called it love drunk, Gaara just scoffed whenever he brought it up. Whatever he and Lee had together had nothing to do with silly infatuations. He had no idea if his affections were even reciprocated. Though, Gaara felt them inching closer to something more intense. However, neither of them seemed to be able to pass the metaphorical line that kept them platonic.

This frustrated Gaara.

As he got older in years, many new, raw emotional connections started to emerge. They would soak into him like water to dry sand. And, like always, he would come to terms with each one, slowly, but eventually. Many of these revelations were small, inconsequential even. And while they did matter a great deal in the scope of things, they didn't leave him metaphorically floundering. Like what he was dealing with right now.

Vulnerability, just like any of the other more, _brittle_ emotions that came with being human, was something Gaara was taking an incredibly long time to let soak in.

It made him feel exposed, raw, like he was about to be ripped open and his insides shown to the sun. Though it never actually made it that far to his physical flesh. Clearly nothing was _actually_ going to harm him when he put in the effort to be open with his siblings. Or on one of the rarer occasions when he decided to talk to Naruto or another trusted comrade. Regardless, it still felt incredibly dangerous.

Temari, in all her wisdom, once said to Gaara that humans only had two reactions when it came to being vulnerable. Either unabashed violence, or love. She’d spoken this to him back when he’d been a bit more volatile, around his late teens. that wisdom was still stuck within him to this day. Plastered to his insides like a prayer he whispered when he needed to ground himself. Something about the way she presented this insight to him, like it wasn’t an opinion of the heart, but rather a cold fact about how humans functioned made Gaara realize how true the statement was.

He’d spent a good part of his younger years tortured by vulnerability. Thus lashing out not because of it, but rather in spite of it. As a child you are nothing if not vulnerable. And time and time again it's proven to him how often people would take advantage of someone unshielded. If given the opportunity.

Vulnerability had only created the reaction of brutality for Gaara. So he never truly realized how much the foundation of love relied on it, as well. It hadn't occurred to him at first, but then he started to crave it. The concept of being understood was tantalizing.

He _wanted_ to know Lee, and wanted Lee to know him. His growing affections were starting to cloud his mind more each day. Sometimes he felt like he didn't start acting on them, he would start to regress.

“Gaara?”

An anchor back to land. Lee was starting to become that for him. Something that snatched him from sinking too far into himself.

“Are you alright? You seem to be a bit lost in your own head.”

Gaara felt like he could choke on that observation. Of course he was lost, that was a given. He didn't say that though. Rather, he decided to try his best to be honest.

“I was to be married off this coming week. The council had been preparing for months. Apparently, I’m running out of time to give them a suitable heir.”

Lee’s soft smile faltered, and he choked out a small, “M-married?” 

Gaara felt like he had been perfectly clear, but apparently not.

“Yes. Married.”

“But you said--I thought--wait, _was_?”

Lee shifted himself so he was a bit closer to Gaara, the smell of his sweat wafting over into Gaara’s personal bubble. His face resembled something akin to being told a comrade perished.

“It had been an assassination attempt.” Lee gasped, Gaara continued. “Apparently no matter how many years go by, I am more desirable dead than I am alive.”

Lee looked to be on the verge of tears. “That's not true! You are very desirable Gaara! Anyone would be lucky to marry you!” It seemed that Lee’s mouth was working faster than his brain. The both of them broke into a scarlet blush at the implications of what Lee had admitted to.

That was another thing Temari was trying to get him to work on. Whenever he tried to be humorous, no matter how obvious he thought he was being, people never seemed to react accordingly. They always looked at him with abhorrent horror, or more often, confusion. Lee was looking at him with a mix of both, at the current moment.

“It was...a joke, Lee. But, the sentiment is appreciated.”

“Oh.” Gaara took note of that fact that anytime Lee was uncomfortable he would fidget with his hands. Like he needed something to distract himself. “Did you... _like_ the person they’d chosen for you? Before, you know, the attempted assassination?”

“No.”

Lee looked relieved. “Oh, well, at least then--”

Gaara cut him off. “She was suitable enough, of high status, pretty to most. But I’ve found that I prefer a partner to be someone a bit more-” Moth green found deep brown. Gaara tried his best to convey his intentions without having to speak them plainly. “-masculine.”

Lee’s eyes went deer wide, and he stopped moving all together, ridged at the bone.

“Good! o-or w-wha--I mean--”

Gaara rose with a huff, picking himself up from the sparring break that he decided they were now over with. He dusted off what little dirt stuck on his clothing and extended a hand to Lee, who seemed to have short circuited.

“Would you like to go again?”

Lee stared at him for what seemed like forever, and then grabbed it with a firm grip and lifted himself, mute. Gaara couldn't tell if it was a good reaction or not, but he still felt lighter knowing it was out in the open. Something he did not have to carry only within himself.

Their hands stayed intertwined, and Gaara felt a pulse of heat run up into his arm. It then bloomed over his entire chest, making him feel light as air. Touch was new, and feeling things like _this_ while being touched was even more of a recent occurrence.

Lee was so focused on watching their hands, he didn't even realize he hadn't let go yet. He kept turning their palms over. Examining their intersecting digits with such affection it made Gaara's chest burn.

“Lee?”

Their hands dropped, and Gaara's arm swung at his side from it relocating gravity.

The smile Lee gave him was sparkling. It seemed like he’d snapped out of whatever trance was keeping his mind occupied.

“Of course! And this time I’ll actually win!”

Gaara gave back a curt nod in response. From his limited knowledge on intimacy, he could only guess that Lee’s reaction to his less than subtle confession of attraction was suitable, if not satisfactory. Reading Lee was difficult at times, but his smile conveyed something of easy joy.

They moved to get back onto the battlefield, and Gaara let himself smile for a few secret moments. 


End file.
